Supernatural Devices (17 page)

“Don’t trust him,” she warned. Her voice was a little hoarse, but given that Scarlett had been resigned to never hearing it again just an hour or two ago, it was a massive improvement.

“Oh, believe me,” Scarlett said, “I won’t.”

Scarlett felt rather than saw Rothschild shrug. “Trust me or not, you
are
going to come with me, Scarlett.”

He took a step back, but Tavian was there, Cruces’ spear in his hands. “You are not taking her anywhere.”

“Really?” Rothschild turned carefully so that Scarlett was between him and Tavian. “Yet how are you going to throw that spear without hurting dear Scarlett? I am sure you wouldn’t want to hurt her, would you?”

Tavian hesitated, the spear held high, in position for a throw.

“You are wondering if you can strike me without harming her,” Rothschild guessed. “Tell me, what do you think the chances are? Whereas if you simply let me take her, she will at least be alive. I’m sure you can see the sense in that, young changeling.”

“Let her go!”

Cruces’ voice echoed around the space in front of the wagon, seeming to come from everywhere at once.

“Let her go, Rothschild, or you and I will fight, and you would not have waited to come here if you believed that you could win.”

“Perhaps I merely wanted to avoid hurting an old friend?” Rothschild countered. “Do not believe yourself to be invincible, Darthmoor. I assure you that you are not.”

“Do you want to put that to the test?” Cruces demanded, and Scarlett still could not place his voice. She found herself wondering whether he had really gone off to feed. Perhaps he had, ignoring Tavian’s grief because he had known about Cecilia just as much as Rothschild did. Yet perhaps it had been more than that. There was his insistence on bringing the spear to consider, as well as the way he had been close enough to come back when Scarlett was in danger. Had he guessed that Rothschild would try something like this?

“I might,” Rothschild said. “After all, she is too valuable to simply give up. You, of all vampires, will know that. But then, perhaps that is why you had her believing this was a real case even though you knew better.”

Scarlett looked out into the darkness. “Cruces? What does he mean?”

Cruces came out of the darkness in a blur. He slammed into Rothschild, knocking him from Scarlett, and then kicked him hard enough to send the other vampire sprawling. Scarlett considered following up with her dagger, but it turned out that there was no time. Cruces put an arm around her waist and scooped her up in a single movement. Then he was running; running with Scarlett over his shoulder as he took her away from the forest with almost frightening speed.

“Cruces, what is going on?” Scarlett tried to demand as the vampire ran on, but they were going so fast she could barely get the words out. Cruces ignored them anyway.

Ahead, there was a road, and on it a cab was parked. Scarlett thought that she might have a chance to find out what was happening once they were both safely ensconced within, but it seemed that Cruces did not intend on merely riding in the vehicle. Instead, he practically threw Scarlett inside, leaping up onto the driver’s seat and dislodging the man who sat there with a snarl that sent him scrambling for cover and had the horses rearing.

They did not rear for long though. Cruces whipped them into motion, and then ran them at a furious speed, jolting Scarlett so badly that it was all she could do to keep from cutting herself as she put away her dagger. Cruces drove the cab as though there were demons behind it all the way back to Piccadilly, barely even slowing to avoid the little traffic that was on the streets.

He pulled up outside his house and practically dragged Scarlett from the cab, lifting her as he had back at the caravan then simply carrying her all the way inside. Only once they were in his town house, with the bolt slid shut on the door, did Cruces stop long enough for Scarlett to catch her breath.

“What,” she demanded, “was all that about? What’s going on, Cruces?”

I
n the hallway of Cruces’ home, Scarlett looked around, trying to make some sense of the speed with which the vampire had taken her away from Rothschild. He had seemed frightened, even terrified. Yet what could possibly frighten something as old and powerful as Cruces? He’d said himself that he was more than capable of defeating Rothschild. Could it be that he was afraid? Of what? Perhaps shortly following Rothschild to Scarlett, many other members of the Order would show up, wanting Scarlett.

“Well?” Scarlett demanded. “I’m waiting for an answer. Are you going to tell me why you just stole some poor cabbie’s livelihood?”

“I’ll return it before dawn,” Cruces promised. “Even if he doesn’t put it down to strong drink, his friends undoubtedly will.”

“That still doesn’t explain why you did it,” Scarlett pointed out.

“Come through to the drawing room…”

“I’m not going anywhere until you tell me what’s going on.” Scarlett put her hands on her hips for emphasis. “Unless you plan on carrying me again?”

Cruces shook his head. “Forgive me for that. It seemed like the quickest way to get you away from Rothschild. I had to make sure that you were safe, whatever it took, and if that meant running off with you in the only chance there was, so be it.”

Scarlett leaned back against the wall, looking at the vampire and trying to determine if he was telling the truth or not. She wanted to believe him, but Scarlett was not enough of a fool to believe that liking her would make Cruces any less devious than he had been before. In any case, he still had not answered so many of her questions.

“Tell me about the Order,” Scarlett said.

“You know about them,” Cruces replied. “You know what they are…”

Scarlett’s fist thumped into the wall in a way that was probably completely unladylike. Right then, however, she did not care. “Do not try to deflect me, Lord Darthmoor. Rothschild intimated that you were a part of the Order. Is that the truth? If you will not tell me, I am going to turn around and leave right now.”

Cruces stood very still, but he nodded. “A long time ago, I was a member, yes.”

“And by a long time, you mean…”

“Thousands of years,” Cruces replied. “Yes, there was a time when I was one of them. I believed everything they had to tell me, but at that time, even Rome was nothing more than a village. Egypt and the Greek states were the real powers in the human world. That is how long it has been since I was a part of their madness.”

Scarlett tried to think of how long that had been, but she knew that any attempt to truly understand it was hopeless. She had tried sometimes with her parents, when they had unearthed some particularly ancient item. A thousand years was… what? Almost sixty times her lifetime. And Cruces had said
thousands.
The figures were simply incomprehensible.

“You must have seen so much,” Scarlett said.

Cruces smiled, and there was a hint of the old humor there. “I find that the modern world has one or two things to recommend it. I really did drag you off to keep you safe from Rothschild, you know. He has a tendency, when he cannot have something he wants, to ensure that no one can.”

Scarlett thought back to Rothschild for a moment. “I believe you about that. Thank you for saving me. I believe I will go through to the drawing room now.”

Cruces’ eyes were on her as she moved away from the wall, the intensity of his gaze undisguised. Scarlett did not have time to think about that for long though, because she found her knees buckling as she tried to walk.

Cruces was there at her side in an instant, supporting her. “It seems that the day has finally taken its toll.” He grinned that too irritating grin of his. When he spoke again, his tone was almost mockingly formal. “Will you still object if I carry you, Miss Seely?”

“So long as you’re more careful than last time,” Scarlett countered. “I swear you bumped my head on the frame of that cab.”

“I will be,” Cruces promised with surprising tenderness. He lifted Scarlett easily and carried her through to lay her down on one of the sofas in his drawing room. Right then, it felt so soft that Scarlett could almost have closed her eyes and slept, letting the sofa’s comfort carry her down into dreams, but there were still things she wanted to know. No. Things she
needed
to know.

“What did Rothschild mean about the case being made up?” she asked, sleepily. “Is this to do with Holmes again? I must admit to being more than a little embarrassed at not guessing what was going on.”

“Don’t be,” Cruces said. “It was expertly done, and it was done specifically with you in mind.”

“So what is the truth about Holmes?” Scarlett asked.

“There never was a case involving him,” Cruces replied. “I know him, because I am as involved in fighting the supernatural crimes of this city as anyone, but this was never his case. The business with the ring… I involved you for the same reason Rothschild did, because I had heard enough about your gifts to know that they were what I required. I doubt that Rothschild truly has Holmes though. As far as I am aware, he is away on another matter instead.”

“So you used me, the same way Rothschild wants to?”

Cruces nodded. “Yes, although I will say that it was with the best of intentions. And I will say that the real work, of tracking down Rothschild and the Order, finding my ring and retrieving it, that was not feigned. I merely disguised it as a minor matter because I could not risk you steering clear of the danger.”

Scarlett sat, momentarily affronted. “Do you really think that I would do that?”

“I think your parents might not have given you the option,” Cruces pointed out. “Would they really have sent you back alone for something this dangerous? Would they have sent you at all if it had not been for ‘Holmes’ sending a letter? I cannot imagine that a request from a notorious rake and dilettante for their daughter to assist him would have gone down well.”

Scarlett nodded. That made a kind of sense. “What about Gordon?” she asked. “Was Rothschild lying about him as well?”

Cruces shook his head. “We must assume that he was not. Cecilia will tell us the whole story, but for now, we must work on the assumption that Rothschild used his ring to transport the young man beyond this world. It is the only way he would be able to force you to look for the devices, and he would have had to do something to keep Gordon out of the way while Cecilia pretended to be him.”

“You know how fantastical that sounds, of course?”

Cruces raised an eyebrow. “Even to you, who can see things others do not?”

Scarlett nodded. “Even to me. Everyone has their limits.”

Cruces shook his head. “Believe me, Scarlett, you have not found yours yet. You will see so many other things before this is done. You will go so much further. I almost wish I did not have to ask it of you, but I do, and I must admit, there is a part of me that wants, more than anything, to see what you will become.”

Scarlett looked into his eyes, and she knew that the vampire was serious. Whatever lay ahead, it was enough to drive all the taunting from him. Scarlett swallowed. With a quick glance away, she decided to change the subject.

“Rothschild’s ring was similar to yours. I saw both it and yours back at his rooms. Now you are suggesting that it can do all that yours is meant to be able to. Why is that, Cruces?”

Cruces sat on the very edge of the sofa. It put him close to Scarlett, but at the same time, so very far away. “The rings were forged together, back in the most ancient days of the vampires. Back when there wasn’t even a word for what we were. The eldest of our kind had them forged and gave them to his… children. Five rings, for five vampires, though time has not been kind to all of them.”

“What happened?”  Scarlett asked.

Cruces shrugged. “All that can happen in those thousands of years. In truth, I am not sure that I even know, anymore. I only know that, where once there were five, now there are only three. They belong to myself, my brother Rothschild, and my sister Lucinda.”

“You and Rothschild are brothers?” Scarlett asked, trying to picture the two vampires as such. Somehow, it did not work. There were similarities, certainly, but no, they couldn’t be.

“I mean that we share the same maker,” Cruces said. “The First. He took us all from our lives, and he gave us the gift he bore. After so long, we are the closest thing to family that each of us has left.”

If Scarlett had been unable to comprehend the thousands of years of Cruces’ life before, she was totally lost by the idea of three people who had been treated as family for that kind of time. They would be closer than anyone, whether they wanted to be or not. How much could you learn to love others over that kind of time? Scarlett thought back to Rothschild and shuddered. How much could you hate them?

“So what is between you and Rothschild is not just about the Order?” Scarlett asked.

Cruces shook his head. “It is never that simple with Rothschild. Oh, he will want to improve his position in the Order, I have no doubt of that. You may even have done him a favor in that respect by killing Elder. For him though, there is always another layer, and in this case, it is what lies between he and I.”